Dear Listener
by Spread-Some-Love-In-My-Stead
Summary: Legends are stories, dear, and stories aren't the truth. Stories make things comprehensible by cutting out what doesn't fit. But I knew the man, honey, and the things the bards trimmed because they weren't noble, or beautiful, or even worthy of note. However, I have a bar to run, so ask Charlo if you want the "Legend of the Hero"... If you're here for the truth, pull up a chair.
1. Take It Or Leave It

_"But I wanted you to know, I did save you..."_

_- Jane Espenson_

I have to admit, I suck at story telling. How should you start? "Once upon a time..."? "On a dark and stormy night...?" I don't know.

I was there for the big finale. Out on Eldin Field, it was. Saw Ganondorf on his big black stallion, Link and Zelda on a chestnut mare, Juni on a stable horse, and bulbins charging willy nilly. Juni was shot off her horse and then the tides shifted and I stitched everything up and...

Already ahead of myself. Goodness, even after years of telling this story, I still trip up.

Bottom line: it's only through sheer luck that we made it out of that Ganondorf mess alive, if you ask me - just spoiled the end too, I guess, but you settled into my bar and asked for the legend already knowing the end, so you've no right to pout - and well, I'm just wrecking this more the more I talk and...

Excuse me.

_(Three rupees change for you, ma'am. Thank you for visiting Telma's...)_

Alright, so we've already established that I suck at storytelling and, in the end, Ganondorf is defeated, right?

But what do you really know of the persons who saved our Hyrule? Or the final battle? Or the events leading up to it? The Hero? The Vagabou?

You don't know about the Vagabou? Were you confined to your house for the entirety of your life? Goddesses. All you really need to know is that they're traders who live out of their travelling wagons. Dark hair, tanned skin, penchant for wearing blue and yellow? They supply all of our potions, items manufactured outside of Castle Town?

_Nothing? _Really?

Honestly, it's not as if I made them up or anything...

How's this -

(_No, sir, I can't break that silver rupee... Where did you even get it, huh? Mighty suspicious...)_

- I'm the only person in all of Hyrule who they both told their story to, so I've got the best insight into what all went into saving our beloved land. Every fight, weapon, and enemy. But also every bonfire, memory, and instrument. And, believe me, half of it doesn't even sound possible, but it's the truth.

Take it or leave it.

Thank you. And after we're done, I'll tell you where you can find them - Yes, _them_. Don't look so astonished. - and you can ask for their story yourself. I doubt they'll talk, but you can try.

Ahem. Right.

So -


	2. Small in Number, Colossal in Intensity

_Do not be afraid; our fate cannot be taken from us; it is a gift. _

_-Dante_

Few people see their fate as a gift. After all, most are fated to die and do very little else. But there are some - small in number, colossal in intensity - who are truly fated to do something. Be it save the world or save a man or create masterpieces of the ear or eye or heart.

Most have fate; few have _Fate_.

I think that is a difference I should make clear now, for it's something dear to the Vagabou. They are fortunetellers, but they don't actually believe in their fortunes, you understand? The one thing about the future they actually believed was everyone had a fate of some sort, be it a Fate or a fate. And the difference was massive to them.

Now, remember that Juni I mentioned? Granny said she had a Fate, which is something Vagabou take pride in.

Everyone knew the Vagabou. Absolutely everyone. (Except, apparently, you. Goddesses, were you living under a Goron?)

They traveled all of Hyrule so many times that when I say everyone, I mean _everyone._ The Snowe Tribe on Snowpeak, the Calihani on the coast, the farmers across Tillage. There were a few branches of the clan, but the one we're focusing on deals in potions and beverages.

The mother was the mystic woman who brewed potions and gave fortunes with a quick laugh and bright smile. The father was quite a gifted musician, which he managed to pass on to a fair number of his children. The mama and papa had eight children in all. Three boys, a set of twins, and then three more boys.

Juni was one of the twins, and the only girl.

Following tradition, the boys were taught to gather ingredients and barter and speak the numbers in all the languages trade could be conducted in. Juni, being the girl, spent her formative years on her mother's lap, learning how to properly prepare and brew and bottle potions, as well as how to best read people to give them their 'fortune'.

_It's all about body language, little love. If she holds her hands this way, she is hoping for love. If her left shoulder is positioned this way, tell her good news of her future son..._

Then the mother disappeared, leaving behind her thick potions tome and little else. Her papa was quiet and Ipi, the oldest, said that mama was in a better place. Jude, Juni's twin, spent the rest of the night holding her hand. When they packed up the next morning, Kara - second oldest - made lumpy grits and then they were off. They tried their best not to speak of her after that.

From then on, Juni brewed the potions in the evening and gave the fortunes and held Jude's hand wherever they went.

I met her for the first time that year, out in Town Square. She had set up her little booth next to the fountain, twin brother hovering as menacingly as a nine year old could manage while she gave out advice on a woman's soon-to-be daughter. Their father was playing the fiddle with Ipi on a drum, making money with their talent. Arane had been eleven and selling their wares beside his older brother with a level of professionalism I had to admire.

The youngest three were off Goddesses know where causing a ruckus.

"Good morning, Miss Telma!" called Kara from the stand. "I've got the coffee, tea, and beer you ordered. As well as a special cider from Tillage, going for quite a bit under price..."

That boy could sell you your own shoes, I tell you.

"Looking taller, honey."

He puffed with all the pride of a twelve year old. "Just had my birthday down in Ordon. They've got a new boy there who's the twins' age, didja know? He's nice, but quiet. His mama was from Tillage and his father was high up the Royal Guard - would you believe that! A farmer's daughter and a knight? - but anyway, they're dead now, so what's it matter, y'know?"

Keeping up with any Vagabou, let alone a young one, is a talent. Not one I possess. "That's nice, honey. What's this I hear about cider?"

"Well, there was a good apple harvest down in Tillage, so..."

I saw their family out in town square every few months, selling and trading whatever happened to be in season and supply. The three eldest (and Alfe, second youngest boy) ended up joining their father in performing for tips. Jude rarely let his sister out of his sight, so he took over the sales with the remaining two younger brothers, when the time came. Juni continued spinning her fortunes by the fountain.

Over the years, they'd become a fixture of the land, traders of drink and news. A sailor in Calihani just got married to a woman in Kakariko, that lovely woman from Ordon died last winter, the Snowe Tribe is having an increase in births...


	3. It's Nights Like This He Lives For

_"It's easy to impress me. I don't need a fancy party to be happy. Just good friends, good food, and good laughs. I'm happy. I'm satisfied. I'm content."_

_- Maria Sharapova_

His mother was from Tillage and his father was a knight from Castle Town. He remembers Tillage, the farming area east south east of South Hyrule Field, and his mother's soft hands, but he's never been to Castle Town and doesn't even vaguely remember his father. When his mother died, he was taken south to Ordon, which was a nice place to grow up. The people were kind, there was always enough food, and he knew kids his own age.

And then there was the Vagabou. They came in waves, two or three times a year, crashing into Ordon like falling stars with music and light and life and cheer. Then, after a few days, they be gone, leaving his yard strangely silent and stagnant.

His favorite family was hers. They'd thrown a party the first few weeks he'd been here, for one of the older boys' birthday. It was mass chaos, full of sticky honey cakes and a girl with dark hair and even darker eyes. He was intrigued by this crazy family - father sawing away at the fiddle, creating sound the likes of which he hadn't heard before, sons dancing or singing or playing instruments to the beat - and, even years later, the intrigue hadn't worn off.

Vagabou were notorious for keeping to themselves. Sure, they told fortunes and sold wares, but they didn't associate with others outside of that realm. It wasn't their fault totally, he reasoned. After all, they were forsaken by the Goddesses and shunned by their customers. Ordon was an exception, he knew, but they weren't welcome in places like Castle Town or Calihani.

This family, though? They were his favorite.

Pipi was the father. He had a gift with music of any sort - guitar, violin, dulcimer, drum, voice - and passed it on to his three oldest: Ipi, Kara, and Arane. The twins played a few instruments each, but didn't have the passion. Kafe, two years younger than the twins and constantly trying to prove himself, was a fair singer and fiddle player, but with so many talented siblings, was constantly outshone. Alfe was a prodigy with percussion. Tort, the youngest at 12, was not meant for music. He could keep a steady beat, and that was all.

They constantly had some sort of music going on, which is what endeared him most. Link would be the first to admit that he was a sucker for a good song.

So imagine his joy when he wakes up to a three-cart-caravan parked on the edges of his lawn. Arane, 19 and sprightly, is tending to the horses with Tort and Alfe. Kafe's taking it upon himself to borrow firewood from Link's stash, while Jude starts the fire for Juni (who's nowhere to be seen, Link notes). The rest must be in town already, or out hunting.

"G'morning," Jude greets, eyes never leaving the fire. "How's life?"

"Good. The Mayor'll be excited to see you."

"Hm. Juni's in the middle cart, 'cause I know you ain't wanting to talk to me."

Link snorted. Vagabou were always so direct. "Alright."

True to her twin's word, Juni was stuffed into the back of the supply cart, mumbling incoherently over a thick book and filling a basket with herbs and jars and _were those pickled eyes?_ Disgusting. When she noticed him, she gave him a smile and a "Carry this". He juggled the basket and scooted back to give her room to exit the cart, that big old piece of papery mold under her arm.

She nudged her twin out of the way when she got to the fire, directing Link as to where to put her things. After everything was deposited and in order, she returned to her feet to give him a once over. Head tilted, he returned the favor.

Every time he saw her, she seemed to be getting shorter. And frizzier. Her face was plain, eyes a little too wide and far apart over a nose that was a touch too small. The black mess she liked to call hair was mostly contained under a bandanna, her apron had smears of Goddesses-knows-what on it, and her dress was looking raggedy at the bottom.

But her _smile. _

If there were two things he appreciated about her, it was her smile and her hands. Her smile was big and unapologetic, always, while her hands were thin and calloused.

"When did you last bathe?" he asked.

Her nose wrinkled. "Don't you know how to treat a woman. Ilia is ever so lucky."

Jude snorted his dislike for the blond girl. Link shook his head. "I've got hot water. Go ahead."

"Not until my next pot is brewing. No use in getting clean just to get eel eyes on me, is there?"

So they were eel eyes? "What're you making?"

"We'll see when I'm done. Now shut up."

Watching her make potions was one of his favorite past times whenever she was around. He fell easily into it, observing her rhythm when it came to preparing ingredients. Crush the eyes to a jelly, thicken to a paste with powdered something, dilute with water of some sort...

Jude coughed loudly. "Staring's rude."

"He always stares, Jude," Tort called from next to one of the horses. Alfe laughed from the other side.

"Been happening since the day we met," Juni agreed, stirring the goop exactly 3 3/4 times counterclockwise. "We're just like that, I guess. Linky-boy over here stares, I do my job, and Jude makes snarky comments."

"It's interesting," Link protested.

"Right."

The younger kids came tearing through the gates at that point, demanding music and excitement and stories and news and _come on, why isn't everyone moving faster...?_

Hours later, the whole town is gathered for a bonfire.

There's an impromptu feast laid out of everything Ordon could throw together on short notice. Pies and breads and a few wild turkeys and vegetables and baked pumpkin seeds are spilling off of the low lying table someone must've dragged in from town. Everyone's stacked around a roaring bonfire, made up of a good deal of Link's winter wood supply, shouting to be heard over the dull roar.

The younger Vagabou boys and the village children are sprawled on top of each other in a pile of knees and elbows. Beth has her eyes on Alfe hopefully. Alfe ignores her in favor of taping a rhythm on his little hang drum to Arane's idle guitar playing.

Jude is scooting fearfully away from Ilia's flirting, nearly on top of his sister in hopes of freedom. In turn, Juni has been steadily retreating to keep herself from a future as a futon, backing more and more into Link until the two are glued shoulder to ankle. Fado is swapping tales of glory with Ipi and Kara, trying to out man one another.

Rusl and Pipi discuss something mundane and adult-ish while Hanch, Jaggle, and Mayor Bo recline with their pipes. The older women are gathered, discussing Uli's belly and all the joy that'll soon progress from it.

Everyone's talking over each other and it's loud and chaotic and he's sure to have gravel in places he never wanted it but _by the Goddesses, it's nights like this he lives for._


End file.
